Doom Days (Harry Potter/MCU Crossover)

Pre-Chapter A/N: Please do check out the first chapter of the novel I'm working on up on Patreon(https://www.patreon.com/c/Oghenevwogaga)- it's completely free to access. 

What can I say except you're welcome? Here we go with the seventh chapter of 2025. Lovely to have you all here, and I hope you enjoy this one. If you do, feel free to head over to Patreon(https://www.patreon.com/c/Oghenevwogaga) and read the next two chapters- I update there on a daily basis so there's always something for you to read. 

Fleur's father coughed pointedly and Fudge turned to him with a smile. "I have yet to make Mr. Potter's acquaintance, Minister Fudge," the man said. 

"Truly? I apologise. I merely assumed that considering your daughter is on his arm, then you would already be acquainted. Please allow me to correct that oversight. Harry, this is Pierre Delacour, the French Representative to the International Confederation of Wizards, and owner of one of France's most impressive wineries" He said, gesturing to Fleur's father. The man looked nothing like his daughter. It was almost comical how little they shared. Her hair was a silvery blonde, where his was a light brown. Her eyes were bright blue, while his were the same shade of Hazel was his hair. She was willowy and lithe, where the man was built like a tank. Where her features were soft, his were hard. Where her skin was unblemished from head to toe, he had a scar I could see poking out from under his robes that ran to his neck. That must have been one hell of a curse, I silently assessed. 

If he noticed my gaze on the scar, then he did not show it. "Monsieur Delacour, I have heard nothing but good things about you" I began, lying through my teeth. Fleur had said little and less about her father. 

"Potter, that is quite funny because I have heard nothing of you" He said in French with a severe pressing of his lips together as his eyes met mine. I was tempted to turn my gaze to Fleur, but this man had started a staring contest, and I would not lose. 

I met his gaze and held it for a few seconds, as the conversation across the table died out. 

He turned his gaze away with a scoff. "My daughter seems to be having a good time today, I do hope that that remains the case" he said. 

"Of course, Mr. Delacour" I said, ending the conversation by speaking in English. I turned my gaze around to Fleur to see her smiling at me. And then she leaned in to whisper in my ear. 

"I think he likes you" She said. 

"Doesn't seem that way" I whispered back. 

"Things are rarely as they seem, Mr. Potter, I am sure you know this" She said with a smirk and I nodded, ignoring the way she made my heart race. What a woman! 

"Are you ready for tomorrow's duels?" I asked, changing the topic and ignoring the way she made my heart twinge as she pulled back. 

"No business tonight, Monsieur Potter", She said in French and then turned to Dumbledore as the old man hit his glass with a spoon. 

"It warms my heart to see us all gathered here tonight, friends, family, allies. This is what the triwizard tournament is about- international cooperation between schools that have long been rivals, but have the potential to, under our stewardship, be more. So turn to your friends from other nations, hold them tight, eat, laugh, make merry, and most importantly….dance- it is a ball, after all. Thank you," He said to smatterings of applause before he lifted his menu in full view of the hall and said, "Pork Chops". The meal appeared on his plate, and thus everyone took it as their signal to begin ordering, creating a unique cacophony. 

I picked up my own menu, careful to stay away from any of the options likely to leave their impact on my breath, and considering the foreign delicacies most closely. Fleur ordered the Bouillabaisse almost without thinking, and I briefly considered mirroring her before changing my mind. This was not the place to risk a fish soup. 

"Fettuccine al burro" I said to the menu, and the pasta with butter and cheese appeared in my plate a second later. The Italian representative, Fabio, caught my eye before ordering the same and offered me a nod before I dug in. If there was one thing to be said about the Hogwarts elves, it was that they could cook. This table had dignitaries aplenty so no one was gorging themselves and forgetting their manners, but it was clear that the food was being appreciated highly. 

Looking over the shoulder of Mr. Delacour, I caught a sight that almost made me put down my fork and forget the meal in front of me. The books did an understatement when they spoke of Ronald Weasley's table manners. He was practically submerging himself in his food. He'd taken the ribs in his hands and lifted them to his face so closely that part of his nose had joined his mouth on the food. I snapped my eyes away instantly, turning to the beauty by my side. 

The food had taken me half an hour to polish off, and I cracked open a bottle of white wine that had been on the table that seemed to suit both Fleur and Is choices. I poured her a glass before pouring one for myself, and almost gasped when I took my first sip. Oh, that was fucking good, I thought. 

"The wine is lovely, you should try it" I whispered to my date as she spooned some soup into her mouth. 

"Good to see you enjoy my father's wine," Fleur whispered in my ear, and I looked at the bottle again. Sure enough, there it was in small print — produced in the Delacour Estate. 

"It is magnificent" I complimented before turning to said father, "The wine is lovely, Monsieur Delacour" I said, and the man looked at me before grunting deep in his throat. 

"Not one of our best vintages, but it is passable" He said, and I nodded, taking the dig at my taste with good humor. After all, what did I really know about magical wine. If he said it wasn't one of the best, then I would take his word for it, even if that essentially meant that a mediocre wine here was better than the best of the non-magical wines. 

"I am unfamiliar with magical wine, can you tell me more" I said, after a brief silent pause. 

The look Fleur gave me showed that I had been right on the money, as the man launched into the most passionate rant that I had ever seen anyone attempt in French. 

"Magical wine exists in all sorts of vintages and varieties — even more than what the muggles have to themselves. Every winery and winemaker approaches wine from a different viewpoint, and the Delacour are the finest of them all. We make red, white, and Champagne" He said the last word with emphasis, and I nodded. 

"But our finest vintage is flower wine. It was an invention of mine own Great-Grandfather, Pierre Delacour the first, I was named after him, as you can tell." 

"How is it made?" I asked, and he smirked before tapping his nose. 

"I am afraid that is a family secret. What you must know, however, is that it is the best wine you will ever have. I shall see about procuring a bottle for your purchase. Judging by the necklace that adorns my daughter's neck, you can most certainly afford it" He said, and I nodded. 

"Thank him", Fleur whispered in my ear. 

"There is a waiting list that is years long for purchasing our flower wine." She said. 

"Thank you, Monsieur Delacour, it is indeed a huge honor" I said, only half-fibbing. I had enjoyed wine in my previous life — maybe more than I ought to have — so the opportunity to taste the best of what this world had was an opportunity. 

"Bah Wine. What a prissy drink. You must try proper Vodka, Potter. Put some fire in that belly of yours" Karpov cut into the conversation. So he had been following even as we discussed in rapid French, fascinating. 

"Vodka, how barbaric. It burns when you swallow it, Monsieur Potter. Don't let him convince you to try that brew of his. It's acid by another name" Delacour said before I could even respond to Karpov. His words might have given offense but Karpov just laughed it off. They knew each other. And they knew each other well enough that Delacour had tasted Karpov's vodka. Fascinating. 

"I fear I will be remiss if I do not step in to pledge that sake is known as the drink of the gods for a reason and is indeed superior to all others" Kawaguchi said with a playful sneer. 

Her introduction into the argument turned into the match that lit the fire. The three of them began debating each other about the merits and demerits of the various drinks. I was tempted to step in and offer my own opinion, but then remembered that Harry Potter had never had alcohol a day before tonight. He knew nothing of wine, vodka, or sake. He definitely didn't know that all three lacked a certain charming simplicity of good beer, which the German Prime Minister, Sukovsky, loudly proclaimed while butting his way into the argument with all the subtlety of a bull in a china shop. Instead, I watched the debate with wide eyes as each of them made points that were dismissed or countered by the other. 

Word of beer's simplicity was shot down with claims of its tactlessness. Delacour referred to it as urine-coloured bitter water, which drew a laugh from both Karpov and Kawaguchi. Delacour's claims of wine's sweetness and variety were tossed aside by Karpov, who called it a woman's drink before a glare from Kawaguchi forced the man to take back his words. Dumbledore cut into the argument, saying he much preferred the taste of a lemon drop in the cold evenings when Karpov claimed that there was nothing like Vodka keeping one company on a cold evening. To my surprise, all four of the debaters turned to the old man for a second before ignoring the reply in agreement and returning to their debate. 

"Is this your first time?" Fleur whispered in my ear. 

"My first time what?" I whispered back to her, I could see that Cedric had turned to Dumbledore with questions about transfiguration while Cho was left to absently stare at the table — the dignitaries argued in rapid-fire French. 

"Witnessing them argue like this" She said. 

"Is it always like this?" 

"Every nation has their pride, trust me. They always find something to argue about. You should see the ICW banquets. At least two duels are fought before dessert, and another six after they really get the drinks in them" She said, making me chuckle in amusement. 

Speaking of dessert, I ordered a treacle tart for myself once it was clear that Fleur had finished her meal and could move on to her own next plate. She had chocolate cake, a rather large helping of it, in fact, and polished it off even faster than I managed the treacle tart. After the meal, they had moved the argument from alcohol to duelling, a matter I was rather interested in. It turned out that the present national duelling champion was a Russian, and this was a fact that Karpov took no small amount of pride in. Vladimir Kasparov was his name, and Karpov had mentioned their familial tie no less than five times in the last ten minutes. 

"I plan on competing at next year's Under Seventeen tournament in Broekzele", I say when the conversation turns to me, and Dumbledore's head snaps in my direction so quickly that I worry for the old man's neck. 

"The Under Seventeen tournament, really? At your age, that's an interesting choice" Delacour said. 

"A chance to gain valuable experience at the very least," Karpov said, tossing an assessing look my way. 

"I hadn't heard about this, Harry" Fudge said, turning to me. So he also spoke French, fascinating. 

"I hadn't announced it really. Just been something I've been playing with in my head" I said. 

"So that means you don't have an agent yet," Kawaguchi cut in. 

"Yes, I haven't been able to find one" I said. 

"Can I volunteer my younger cousin for that. She serves as Agent to several of Japan's top contenders but considering the World Championship takes place after the Under Seventeen, she'll have time enough for you" She said. 

I gave her an assessing look, trying to figure out what to do here. 

"He'll love to. He can send her an owl tomorrow after the duels" Fleur cut in, and I turned to her in shock. She gave me a wink that was loaded with meaning, so I smiled and nodded along with her words. When had I come to trust her this much? I wondered. 

"Are you sure competing is the best idea, Harry" Dumbledore cut in, his tone was light, airy, even as I could tell that he wanted nothing more than to forbid the possibility. 

"It has to be. I have to test my capacity against others of my age group" I posed. 

"Well, the others there will be substantially older. And also passed their magical maturity" Delacour pointed out. 

"I think I'll survive. Besides, there will be duels tomorrow so if things go terribly, I'll know what to improve on ahead of June" I said with a shrug. 

"But are you sure your Aunt and Uncle will be willing to permit this?" I might have been unjustifiably paranoid, but I took those words to mean- 'I will not be letting the Dursleys release you from your summer prison to go gallivanting about the wizarding world outside my influence.' 

"Why would they not? The chance to compete in such a star-studded tournament? Rumor has it that Broekzele is going to be the biggest Under Seventeen Tournament in decades" Karpov said. 

"Rumor? We all know you don't need rumors to get your information, Karpov" the German prime minister sniped with a smile. 

Fleur leaned over to me and whispered- "The Russian Government has a massive investment in next year's championships. He's on both planning committees" She said and I nodded. 

"Well, they are muggles, you see. And will have surely missed him, not getting to see him across the Yule break either" He began, lying through his teeth. Now, Harry Potter would never have said anything here. Tom Riddle would have told the truth of the Dursley's abuse right here and now. Doom would never show such weakness, though. He didn't need their pity. Instead, he contented himself with the knowledge that he wouldn't be with them by the summer. And if his gambit with Sirius failed, well, who said the Dursleys couldn't suffer a very regrettable and unfortunate accident while he remained in Hogwarts, far from suspicion. 

"I think my Aunt and Uncle can come to an appropriate compromise, Headmaster. But now, President Karpov, you were telling us about your Nephew. I would love a chance to meet him" I said, turning the subject to something else, playing the role of a fan here. 

The rest of the dinner went in that manner — topics came and went, but regardless of what the topic was, it always came to some sort of argument. At some point, I had to relent and just accept that this group of people just liked arguing with each other. They did it over the most insane of things. Even cauldron bottoms had become a point of contention after Percy Weasley brought them up- how he had ended up on the large table was beyond me, and I did not care enough about the inner workings of Fudge's ministry to find out. 

Either way, by the time the dancing was scheduled to continue, I enjoyed waving away every attempt to converse further in favour of taking my date out on the floor. It was the far lesser evil by all metrics — not that having Fleur's shapely body in my hands was an evil at all, mind you. Oh, she was such a woman. We danced for the first song at arm's length, as was only proper, and so did we for the second. By the third, she had stepped into my space, so I could feel her breath against my skin and her bosom against my chest. 

When the fifth song came around, I was certain I could feel her heart beating even better than I could feel my own — that was how close we were standing. I was not a big fan of public displays of affection by any means, but I could tell she was turning this into some sort of competition, and I was a much smaller fan of losing or admitting defeat. Her smirk deepened as I stepped even closer and pulled her waist against my lower body. My very awake lower body, lacking a better word. 

"Someone is having a great time" She whispered in my ear. 

"Yes, he does tend to come out and play in the presence of the divine. And you, my dear, are a goddess" I said in reply. She chuckled and tapped my chest lightly. 

"Such a flirt you are" She whispered back. And then, like the universe had smiled upon me for once, the music switched to a much slower tune. I pulled her even closer to me- not like there was any space between us to begin with, as we swayed to the music. All was right in the world. 

Of course, that was when shit hit the fan. I didn't know what happened first, but I did know what I noticed first. 

The massive chandelier with nearly a million crystals across it clattered to the floor, shattering. "Asia will be free, Avada Kedavra" I heard multiple voices cry out as I pulled Fleur to the ground with me. My wand snapped from its holster and tapped the ground in a second, even as my heart beat relentlessly against my chest. A cocoon of earth rose around us even as I pressed down on the castle and forced the ground of the Great Hall to obey my will, taking us deeper and deeper. 

A/N: Can't be a ball without a few dead people. Obviously, Harry wasn't the target here. Mouldyshorts does still need his blood. As always, the next two chapters are up on Patreon (https://www.patreon.com/c/Oghenevwogaga). If you just want to read complete chapters and not my work in real-time, then feel free to purchase this story as a collection on my Patreon(https://www.patreon.com/c/Oghenevwogaga) page so you get to read each chapter after I finish it and not necessarily the daily updates available with a regular Patreon (https://www.patreon.com/c/Oghenevwogaga) membership- nice way to support this story and me while you're at it. Enjoy!